Most of these words won’t turn into anything meaningful. But there is always the possibility. And that is the beautiful thing. When you do it every day, you increase the likelihood that something good will come out of it. Just a few paragraphs. That’s all you need to make a blog post. A few more, and you can call it an essay.

It’s more than just the writing. It’s about digging through the words and finding the good stuff. You know how ideas are the easy part and writing is the hard part? Free writing is the easy part; finding a few paragraphs to make a blog post is the hard part.

You have to read your stuff when you’re done. Anyone who makes art knows how hard it is to look at their own work. We hate the sound of our voice on tape. We can see all the brushstrokes in a painting. We know where we coloured outside of the lines. And when you’re writing on the computer, there’s usually a bright red squiggly line under all of your mistakes, like the chalk outline of a body on the pavement. (This is even worse when you write back and forth between UK and US English.)

This is a blog post right here. This is what I’m going to post, after I’m done all the writing, after I’ve taken a shower, after I’ve dressed. I’ll look at these words again, cut out what I want, and paste it into a text file so I can see it in a new context. I’ll fix run-on sentences and change a few short ones for rhythm. I’ll clean up the writing, and then I’ll read it again. Then I’ll post it as a draft, so I can see it in the blog context. I need to know how it’s going to look on Tumblr.

But eventually, you have to press the button. Eventually, you have to give yourself over to the world. I don’t know if anyone is going to read it. I don’t know if anyone is going to care. I’m just writing, and that’s all I can do.

I’m just hoping that it means something to someone out there. This is my little piece of truth in the world, and this is how I share it with you. You don’t have to share anything back with me, but I hope you take it in and keep it for yourself. Share it, if you think it needs to be shared. Turn it into something else, something that belongs to you. Make it new. Make it yours. Pass it along.

The only thing I know that’s true in this world is that sharing ourselves with the world makes us stronger and greater.

It’s the hardest and the greatest lesson. I’m still learning it myself, every day. I’m trying to be better. I’m trying so hard to be more open. I felt myself shutting down and shutting off this year. Because it’s too hard. And I don’t know who I can trust and where I can turn. I love the internet, I really do. But the internet is no replacement for a friend on the other end of the couch who will nod when you open your mouth and share yourself.

But the internet is all I have right now. I’m holding on too tightly, I know. These posts are sporadic and equally long as they are short. Sometimes they’re not words at all, but pictures of the things I see in front of me. All of it is my world, and all of it, I’m sharing with you in the hopes that it means something. If I share it, maybe it matters, and maybe I do, too.